A Telling Fortune
by Todash
Summary: In Tokyo on R&R, B.J. finds himself doing something very out of character. Slash implications, B.J./Hawkeye.


**A Telling Fortune**

B.J. thought: _This is absurd. What on earth made me think this was a good idea?__  
_  
He was in Tokyo on R&R, and he'd been walking along the Ginza, taking in the sights and sounds, as they say, when he saw the sign posted above an otherwise unremarkable door. Written in both Japanese and English, it said (well, at least the English part did) "Your Fortune Told While You Wait." And he had laughed long and hard at that, because of course it would be "while you wait," or else you'd be handing over your money and then leaving before you got anything in return. And he'd figured, _Oh what the hell, this lady deserves my business after the good laugh she just gave me._ And into her lair he had walked. Just for grins, he thought. Something to tell Hawkeye about when he got back to camp.

Now he sat at a small table, across from her, wondering why he was spending his money so frivolously, because suddenly it did seem silly, and besides, there was something about her gaze that was making him uncomfortable. Far from original, this fortune teller was wearing a gold kimono and lots of beads, her fingernails painted a bright red, her lips painted nearly the same shade. B.J.'s right hand was resting in her own, and she traced the lines in it with her left index finger. She alternated between looking at his hand and then lifting her eyes to study his face, her expression serious and pensive. He squirmed a little, worried that she was going to tell him something bad, something about his wife, maybe, or his daughter.

Finally he could stand the silence no longer. "Don't tell me I've only got a few days to live. If the news is that bad, keep it to yourself." He grinned to show her he was joking, except that he wasn't.

"Oh, no, sir. Nothing like that." She was Japanese, but her English was quite good. She probably needed it to be, in her business. If she used the wrong words, she could send some poor American into a complete frenzy. Sort of like how B.J. was starting to feel now.

"Then what is it?" he asked. "You don't seem to be seeing happiness and laughter in my future. At least, not based on the look on your face."

"I'm sorry. I've just been having a little difficulty reading you."

B.J. laughed softly. Hawkeye would get a kick out of hearing that. He'd said on a few occasions that B.J. was something of an enigma.

"You're not entirely truthful with yourself," the woman said.

He squinted at her, confused. "What does that mean?"

"I don't know, I can't tell you everything, sir. I can only tell you what I see."

_Gobbledegook,_ he thought. _Words that mean nothing._ Again he wondered why he was spending his hard-earned money in this fashion. If he had it to do over…

She was looking at his palm again, running that finger along the lines there. "You're a doctor," she said then, and he caught his breath. He hadn't told her that, of course, but he supposed she could've made a good guess. Maybe his hands had "surgeon" written all over them, though he didn't think so. "Serving in the Army," she added, but that she obviously could tell from his uniform. No clairvoyance needed there. "You come from the west coast of the United States."

OK, this was getting spooky, he had to admit. How could she have known that? Did he look like a California boy? He supposed that was possible.

"There are people back there you think about often, people you left behind, but I see a—a sort of a wall. These people are behind the wall."

"A wall? Wait, are they all right? My wife and daughter, that's who you're talking about."

"It's not that there is anything wrong. You have them behind a wall."

B.J. shrugged. He didn't know what that meant. As long as they were OK, though…

"They aren't available to me," she said, as if that explained it better. "I believe you want them kept away from the truth. From your truth."

"From the war?" B.J. didn't know what else she could be referring to.

She shook her head, but didn't elaborate. She went back to studying his right hand, then asked to see his left one. Holding both of them, palms up, she fell into silence for several minutes, making B.J. even more self-conscious and uncomfortable. He would never go to a fortune teller again, he promised himself. This was the most ridiculous, out-of-character thing he'd done in quite some time.

"I can see a person," the fortune teller finally continued, her voice soft, her eyes still concentrating on his hands. "The most important person in your life."

"My wife," he said immediately, not even phrasing it as a question.

She met his eyes. "No, your wife, back home in the United States? She is not available to me." _Oh, that again._ "This person is with you now."

"There's nobody with me. I'm on leave right now, and I'm alone," he said curtly, as if he relished catching her in an error.

"Not here in Tokyo, but here as you serve in Korea." Her focus returned to his palms. "It is strong, the connection you have to this person. There is no one more important in your life. There is no one who matters more to you. It is a man… another doctor? I believe so. He is dark, he is slender."

Hawkeye, of course. B.J.'s mouth was suddenly dry. This woman had to have gotten her wires crossed. The most important person in his life? Well, certainly Hawkeye was the most important person in Asia; that much he would readily agree with. What would he do without Hawk by his side? But to say there was nobody who mattered to him more. What was this woman implying…?

"You're not truthful with yourself," she said again, and this time it sounded like she was scolding him. "Your future is not clear to me. Perhaps because you have to overcome this… fear or concern that is causing you to pretend—"

"Pretend?" he cut her off, angry. "What am I pretending about?"

"I cannot entirely tell. You are difficult to read."

His ire seemed to unsettle her, and he forced himself to relax. This was only a game, after all. Well, more or less. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell. I'm just—I don't know what you're trying to tell me, that's all."

She seemed to consider how to explain her visions or inklings or whatever word she might use to describe them. "Some people would say this man, this other doctor, is your soul mate. You are not allowing yourself to think that. You are not believing what your own heart is saying to you."

B.J. stood up then, pulling his hands away from hers. "Bullshit. You're talking about my best friend, and I do love him, but my soul mate—the most important person in my life—is a petite blonde woman who lives in Mill Valley, California, with my baby daughter." He took a step away from the table, was about to turn and leave when he realized he wasn't being very polite, and he'd always been taught to be polite. "I'm sorry, thank you for the reading, but we're done now. I've gotten my money's worth." Actually, no, he hadn't, but he didn't want to insult the poor woman any further.

He headed toward the door and was about to open it when her voice called after him, "I only told you what I saw. Your future was not clear because you do not understand yourself. You are confused, even if you won't admit it. But Captain, there was one other thing I saw. Do you not wish to know?"

His hand was on the door but he stopped. _Go on out,_ he told himself. _Don't listen to any more of this._ But for some reason, he didn't move. He turned back to look at her, saying nothing. He only waited.

"I saw that man, the other doctor? I saw him smiling and holding his hand out to you." She was watching him closely but he kept his face expressionless. "He feels as you do. I thought you should know. Does that perhaps make a difference?"

B.J. opened the door and walked out, not saying anything more to her. But as he emerged back out on the bustling street, he found himself thinking: _Does it…?_


End file.
